


When in Denerim

by Ejunkiet



Series: Dragon Age Anthologies [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another drabble collection, spanning Dragon Age: Origins, and the colourful collection on characters that share the same camping site.</p><p>As with all good tales (in Antiva, at least), it begins with an incident in a brothel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When in Denerim

**Author's Note:**

> _Brothels, curious elves, and forgotten roses._ Alistair, and an elven warden, recently released from the Circle of Magi.

“Men, or perhaps women?”

It had started out as a joke. _‘A bit of both’,_ she’d said, before coin was exchanged and the handsome… _options_ were paraded in front of her. Young human men. Older elven women (although humans would never be able to spot the subtle signs of one of her brethren’s second century).

And one… _curious_ elf.

Their eyes met, and he - _she?-_ sent her an appraising look, full lips twisted into a wide smirk that seemed too wide in such a delicate face. His-her eyes struck her, though; dark, yet brilliant, obsidian glinting back at her through the dingy lit back rooms provided by the Gnawed Noble.

The proprietor of the establishment was keen-eyed at her shoulder, quickly catching on and gesturing the worker forward. “Do you feel up for a night with ‘The Lady’, Warden?” The smile she was presented was all teeth, greyed and chipped around the edges as the woman peered past her, before a hand descended onto her shoulder, gripping her tightly and steering her back to the main room. “Well, come on then.”

The older mage - the spirit healer; _Wynne_ , was it? - was the only one of their small troupe who seemed unsurprised at the turn of events as the young elven warden was paraded though the fake grandeur of the downstairs area, before her and her chosen companion were shoved unceremoniously through the door of the first bedroom.

Slim fingers danced around her waist as she blinked at the door, still trying to come to terms with this turn of events, before the light touch danced across her stomach, a light touch at her chin bringing her eye-level with that obsidian gaze. A deep throated chuckle huffed along her neck, and somewhere between the hand that had found its way down her leggings and the mouth that nibbled along the length of her ear, the warden found herself forgetting her embarrassment, and the fleeting image of the dumbstruck, incredulous expression of her fellow warden.

And as the night progressed further, she remembers in passing the request Alistair had made of her earlier that day, to speak to her in private when they reached their camp. It'd been a curious question, her interest doubled by the nervous way he’d twisted his fingers within his grip, fidgeting even as he avoided making eye-contact when he'd asked her.

There'd be time for that tomorrow, though.

——-

_Thump._

“Warden. It is close to the time when we make camp. We should leave.”

_Thump. Thump._

“ _Warden.”_

The fist raised again, hovering above the wood to knock a third time, when the surface fell beneath it, revealing the flushed and harried face of the warden, half-dressed, with one arm free from the shirt she was pulling on over her vestments.

“ _ma feca - I’m here_ , I’m here! By the Blight, Wynne, _what are you still doing here?_ ”

“With the trouble in Denerim, _we_ deemed it wasn’t safe enough to leave you to return unaccompanied.” Her stare was pointed, flicking back once over her shoulder to where a red-faced Alistair was quickly turning his back. “We hadn’t assumed you’d take quite this long, however.”

“-not that we necessarily disapprove, of course.” The lilting voice of the assassin cut in smoothly, his eyes gleaming as he leaned slightly to the side to see into the room. Without another look back, she took a step forward and sent the door swinging shut, and he gave a light sigh. “I can only wonder-“

The Warden raised a hand, the gesture enough to send the assassin into silence, before she ran her fingers through her hair, sinking her face into her hands.

“ _ma feca_. Enough. I am sorry, Wynne; if I had known, I would not have wasted so much of your time. Let us move on.”

Ignoring the bemused huff from the elf who sent another, lingering glance at the door, she strode past the two of them and made her way to the stairs, descending into the main hall. As she reached the entryway, her companions flanked her sides, and after checking her weapons - with confirming nods from the men at her sides, and the woman at her vanguard - they left the establishment in silence. She didn’t give a second thought to the scattering of wilted rose petals left scattered across the threshold, and it was only later she remembered her conversation with Alistair.

——

When she questioned him by the campfire, he requested she forget about it, as ‘the silly thoughts of a silly fool’, before he had fled into his tent. 

Not another word was spoken about it.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author’s Note** : _Alistair disapproves (-4)_. Was that elf a hermaphrodite, or transgender…


End file.
